Pre-War Games
by UnwieldyInk
Summary: A little story about younger Jason at Camp Jupiter, specifically the day that he met Reyna!


Jason had no idea what to make of the girl in front of him.

She looked around his age, so twelve or so? Her black hair was wound in a tight braid that spun down her back, and her hands twitched to her side, where presumably she had been keeping a weapon. A deep cut ran across her forehead.

"Hello," Jason began. The girl stared at him, giving no answer. "I'm Jason. What's your name?" He held out his hand for the girl to shake.

After staring at him strangely for a moment, the girl turned and marched away from him, heading towards the centurion, a daughter of Ceres named Rosemarie, who had been showing her around camp.

"Okay then." Jason quickly straightened his armor plate, a bit embarrassed at being ignored. But there was no time to think about that. He pushed the strange girl out of his mind and turned his attention to the preparation for war games. They would start in less than an hour. Jason didn't have time to worry about random newbies.

Jason lined up with the other members of the Fifth Cohort, giving attention to their two centurions: Hailey, daughter of Mercury, and Tyrone, son of Venus. Tyrone was seventeen, and would be leaving to go to New Rome University in a couple months. Jason, who knew, despite his age, he was a strong candidate in the running for the new centurion, was determined to procure this victory for the Fifth Cohort.

They hadn't won for several weeks now, and morale was low. As Jason glanced around his fellow members of the Fifth Cohort, annoyance flashed up in him. Couldn't these damn Centurions do their job and give a good pep talk for once in their lives? Of course, neither of them delivered. Hailey tried, she honestly did, but her skills were more suited to lurking in the shadows and helping from there, both on the battlefield and within friendships. Her speech went something like:

"Fellow members of the Fifth Cohort! I know things have been rough for us lately, but, um… we can do it! Just, uh… keep your wits about you, and… remember that I'll buy everyone ice cream if we win?"

A halfhearted cheer droned from the crowd, and Jason rolled his eyes. Hailey winced as she turned away from the group of teenagers huddled before her.

And Tyrone? Well… Tyrone honestly didn't care about winning, or being a Centurion, or anything at Camp Jupiter. Jason got the feeling he'd only lobbied to be Centurion so that he could put it on his college application. Which was fair. If Jason was so close to being done with his service at Camp Jupiter, he wasn't sure he would care that much about the silly war games either.

Still, Tyrone had a job to deliver information to the cohort, so he spoke up. "So, Fourth has been assigned to charge in first, then us." Noises of surprise began to spring up in the crowd. "I know, for once we don't have the worst job. 'Course, it doesn't matter, since we _still don't have a plan._ " He glowered at Hailey as he said the last phrase. She put her hands on her hips and turned to face him.

"Well, maybe if you'd actually showed up on time for the planning meeting, we could've gotten something done! It's not my fault your lazy butt couldn't get out of bed-"

"I was not in bed! I was doing something very important!"

"Oh yeah? And what would that be, mister-" Jason had stopped listening by this point, turning his attention instead to the fort they were supposed to attack. It was good. Defensemen on foot lined the walls of the fort, and Jason could spot archers poking their bows through slits in the stone on the third floor. The flag of the First and Third Cohorts were inside of the fort. Two, Four, and Five were to attack. Somehow, they'd lucked into _not_ being the death fodder thrown at the fort first. But Tyrone was right; without a good plan, that advantage would give them nothing. Jason disregarded the footsoldiers surrounding the wall. Forth would probably take care of most of them, and whichever ones were left probably wouldn't be numerous enough to make too much of a dent into Fifth. No, the archers were what worried Jason. Distributed incrementally throughout the third floor, they could easily shoot almost any spot in the perimeter.

Almost.

As Jason scanned the fort, he noticed a weak point. Smack dab in the middle of the fort, the two archers were spaced out slightly farther apart than all the others. This meant that, while the archers _could_ shoot at anyone approaching right down the middle line, they'd have to crane their necks and bend their elbows in awkward positions, making their aim off. Jason knew he'd found his entry point. He broke rank and interrupted Hailey and Tyrone's argument by shoving them back, tuning to address the Fifth Cohort himself.

"Alright, so here's the plan," he began, taking almost everyone in the crowd by surprise. Hailey and Tyrone knew his previous successes in battle planning, as he'd approached them several times before with ideas on how to win deathball or chariot races. But as far as the rest of the Cohort knew, he was a leader only on the battlefield, not in the planning room.

"Fourth is going in first, which is great for us. They'll probably deal with a good chunk of the guards on the ground. Hailey, you take this half-" he gestured at roughly half of the Cohort "-and go left, leading a charge. Tyrone, same thing, but taking the other half and charging right. I'll take Mae, Clive, Ceaser, Via, and Bobby down the middle." A clamor began to rise at the idea of a twelve-year-old leading their four best warriors (and Bobby, who was pretty good, but Jason mostly just wanted him along because he was a good friend) into battle. Jason held up his hands. "I know, I know. But look at the fort. Those two archers in the middle are spaced farther apart, which means it'll be harder for them to hit us. Not impossible, but harder. The five I picked out, make sure you've got a heavy duty shield. The six of us will lock into a line, and push forward slowly. But your shield is gonna have to take a lot of arrows. Once we break into the fort, leave a small team five or six behind to barricade the doors. The Second Cohort isn't charging until after us, and they are _not_ our friends. Everyone understand?"

The crowd was silent, even the most sceptical members nodding reluctantly. "Wonderful." Jason grinned, and held up his blade. "Victory for the Fifth!"

The crowd echoed back the sentiment, and then, once the Fourth Cohort was through, Jason gave the signal to charge.

Hailey and Tyrone's flanks tore off, and Jason's mini-team got into place- shoulder to shoulder, shields locked. He nodded, and the six of them started to push forward. With every arrow that struck one of their shields, Jason could feel his whole body vibrating, but the arrows hitting the ground next to them were almost twice as numerous as the ones actually landing on their shields. Jason grinned.

When they reached the wall of the fort, things got a little more interesting. "Drop Shields!" Jason yelled. The fighters, who had been anticipating this command, quickly obeyed. They were close enough now that the archers couldn't reach them, but the footsoldiers definitely could. A grim-looking girl attempted to stab Jason. He dodged and knocked the pilum out of her hands. A few more enemies came at them, but with the most competent fighters in the Fifth Cohort (plus Bobby) by his side, Jason's team easily took care of them. In no time, they had broken through the barricaded door.

"Via, re-block the door. Clive, cover her. Everyone else… get to the flag. Good luck." The four of them went sprinting off, spreading out through multiples of corridors and stairways.

Jason wasn't having too hard a time. He was twelve, so the newbies who didn't know how good at fighting he was went easy on him. He'd been training, either at Camp or with Lupa, for as long as he remembered, so he could fend for himself pretty well. He got through the majority of the fort relatively unharmed.

That was, until he stumbled upon the girl from earlier again. He had the flag within his sight, just at the end of the hall, but standing between him and the small circular intersection where the flag was propped up against the wall was _her_. The girl with the braid. She looked more at home now with a gladius in her hand.

"It's you!" Jason stopped dead in his tracks. He couldn't help himself.

"Obviously." Her eyes were so dark, Jason couldn't tell where her pupil ended and her iris began.

"But how- have you even joined a cohort yet?"

"No. Rosemarie said I could stay with her."

"So you're with Third for now, then."

"Apparently. And which one are you in?"

"Fifth."

Her grip on her blade tightened. "I take it I'm supposed to stop you, then."

"Obviously." Jason smirked, and the girl leaped at him.

Immediately, Jason was overwhelmed. He didn't expect this level of expertise from anyone his age, especially not someone who had arrived at camp _today_. The girl's gladius flashed back and forth so quickly that Jason could barely keep track of it. He couldn't get even one hit in on her; it was all he could do to block her quickfire attacks. She had him backed up against the wall, and Jason felt panic closing in on him. He was _not_ prepared to fight this girl. He couldn't see any way out, either, unless-

Suddenly, someone shoved Jason out of the way. He stumbled, then regained his footing and whirled around to see Bobby crossing swords with the girl.

"Go!" Bobby grunted out. Jason didn't hesitate to obey. The girl was crazy good; Jason had seconds before Bobby was dealt with and the girl could turn her attention back to him. Jason whirled down the hallway, not minding any noise he was making. The only thing that mattered was getting to the flag and away from the girl.

This tactic proved ineffective, as, as soon as Jason stepped in front of the flag, the other three guards flanking it pointing their blades towards him immediately, having heard him coming. Jason swore under his breath. There was no way he could take on three at once, and he saw the scary girl making her way down the hall now, too, Bobby slumped up against a wall behind her.

Jason backed up, resting one hand on the flag and using the other to jut his gladius out at the attackers, keeping them at bay. He recognized two of them as First Cohort elites: old (like, 16!), experienced, and incredibly powerful. They would wipe the floor with little twelve-year-old Jason. They could probably even take the girl, too.

Jason prepared to fight, knowing there was no way out of this but not wanting to just surrender, either. He was about to launch himself at one of the guards when a commotion sounded to his right. His comrades! The others from the Fifth cohort had come to save- uhh, _help_ him! He felt his hopes surge as one of the guards collapsed from an injury to the head. But what he revealed as his body fell out of the way was not a friendly Fifth Cohort face, but rather a person from the Second Cohort. One of the brutish kids who counted how many people they disqualified for special privileges and betting pools. Mercenaries, the Fifth cohort called them. Jason swore again, and then, without thinking, grabbed the flag and tried to run.

The fight waged around him; Seconds against Firsts, Thirds against Seconds, everyone against Jason. But somehow, he didn't go down. Everyone else around him was occupied fighting each other, so Jason only had one enemy to really deal with: one of the Second Cohort Mercenaries. Jason dodged this way and that, swung his gladius up and down in ways he didn't even know he knew how to do, but it wasn't enough. Eventually, the Mercenary knocked Jason's weapon out of his hand. Jason stood for a millisecond or two, his mind completely blank, and then helplessly resorted to reflexes. When the Mercenary next moved, Jason used the pole of the flag to whap him on the head. He was wearing a helmet, of course, but the vibrations alone were enough to make him fall to his knees. Jason leapt over him, kicking him square in the nose as he went, and tore off running. As Jason sped off, he saw out of the corner of his eye that everyone else in the area was either fainted, gone, or fighting, except for the girl. She alone stood, weapon in hand, staring at Jason.

As he dashed down the corridor, Jason was barely aware of what was going on around him. People shouted as he ran past; he shoulder-checked and dodged faces he couldn't see as more than a blur. The only thing that mattered was that he got out of the fort.

Finally, he burst through a door to reach the outside. The members of the Fifth Cohort resting in the healing zone all jumped to their feet, cheering, when they saw Jason (some hurting themselves even more in the process). Finally, Jason slowed down, bending over when he came to a stop. Plenty of Fifth Cohort members crowded around him, patting him on the back and congratulating him as he panted. One of the Praetors, Michel, sounded a blow horn, then said into a megaphone: "The Fifth Cohort wins the War Games! Please all assemble for honors!"

Not the most graceful way to call everyone's attention, but an effective one. Soon, everyone was piled into the dining pavilion, chattering excitedly about the game. Jason was ecstatic to be in the spotlight, but something was still bugging him. Eventually he spotted the girl in the corner, sitting alone. He quickly slipped over to her.

"You let me get away."

She peered up at him over the rim of her mug. "Perhaps."

"Why did you let me win?"

She shrugged. "I got here _today_. I don't care about these stupid games. I wasn't even officially on a team. But you seemed to care a lot, so, why not help you?"

Jason hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly pulled out a chair opposite her and sat down. "Thank you." The girl waved him off, and Jason sat, unsure of what to say. After a minute of awkward silence, Jason spoke.

"What's your name?"

The girl truly met his eyes for the first time.

"Reyna."


End file.
